


Confetti Box

by Sugar_and_Salt



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pathcode Teasers, Drabble Collection, M/M, lots of ships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-04 20:14:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12778659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sugar_and_Salt/pseuds/Sugar_and_Salt
Summary: An messy collection of all the drabbles I write on the side~





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> (Warnings/Ratings will be added in front of the drabble for anything above PG-15)

  
  
"Oh," Jongin said when their eyes met, surrounded by people of all ages, mostly older than them, under the dingy light of a bar. The first round of drinks was ordered, people were loosely introduced but Chanyeol didn't need an introduction. He remembered Jongin. Just looking at him in the dim light, he could hear the subdued buzzing of hallways, could smell the scent of rubber and shaved pencils. Jongin had changed, but not too much for him not to recognize him.

No one introduced Chanyeol, because everyone knew Chanyeol. Tall, tall, Chanyeol. Loud, flashy, well-known Chanyeol. He was the creative director, the oddball people respected, admired, tried to suck up to. That was the reason Jongin was here - or rather the reason his boss was here. Jongin was just smiling weakly and padding along as they all settled around a table. That's where he had changed. Chanyeol remembered him well - not because they'd been friends, but because he had spend hours and hours staring at people like him, trying to figure them out so he could imitate them. Jongin had never been a queen bee, but he had been part of the cool kids. Chanyeol had never wanted to be a leader, he had wanted to blend in, in a cool way. Like Jongin, like so many others.

But Jongin had changed. Not like people changed in the movies or in TV series, when an old actor was forced to give a cameo to appeal to nostalgia. Even in books they described people you meet years and years later as more mature. More calm, more subdued, less wild, more settled.

Jongin, too, had changed, but he looked more open now. Gone was the cool look, the calculated smirks, the straight and imposing posture. He looked a little less guarded, though the pressure of drinking with working colleagues - and Chanyeol - was written all over his face. Throughout the dinner, he kept stealing glances at Chanyeol, who couldn't help but think that this new look... suited Jongin. He didn't look broken without the facade of nonchalance, at least not to Chanyeol. He simply looked less untouchable and _dead_ than he remembered him.

It was funny how people changed, how circumstances changed, he thought to himself as he joked around with his colleagues and befriended the strangers. Among these people, Chanyeol was the _cool kid_. The daring young man who had ambitions and fought for them, who was honest and brave enough to approach people and let them in. Among these people, the Jongin he met in high school would have been an outcast.

People changed, but Chanyeol didn't feel like he changed a lot. Being yourself was tiring and a never-ending fight for sure; but unlike trying to be something he didn't understand, the fight was worth it. It was more fun, too.

It took a few hours, many beers and a rare moment of privacy for Jongin to seek his eyes and talk to him for the first time that evening.

"You know," he said, sounding almost shy as he shot him a cautious smile. "I always envied you, back in high school."

Chanyeol considered that. Considered cool, blasé Jongin sneaking glances at clumsy, awkward Chanyeol, who always laughed too loud and ruined every joke. Who tripped over his own feet trying to befriend people, who turned beet-red when people called him out for his stilted, _fake_ behaviour whenever he tried to be one of them.

Yes, Chanyeol thought about it, about the irony of it.

Then he smiled at Jongin, small and reassuring, with a tinge of nostalgia and a shadow old, long-forgotten bitterness. To Jongin, it looked a lot like the way Chanyeol had smiled to himself back in high school, when he thought no one to be around. Now Chanyeol smiled at _him_ though, neither afraid nor ashamed to show this side of him.

"You shouldn't have."


	2. Lyon 06:26

Clicking heels on stone, the tinkling of metal accessories and that distinct sound of bending leather screeching in protest. All sounds that reached Baekhyun in between the songs, all sounds he liked to drown out like he drowned out the whole world. He liked it, the numb lack of noise around him as his senses were filled to the brim with guitars, keyboards, voices - a perfect melody filling the void of his mind. Soundlessly, the world passed by in a blur of colors, endless shades of brown seeping into each other in the same, warm light of the streetlamps.  
Baekhyun took the stony steps one at a time, matching with the beat pulsing in his ears, his heart beat… that stuttered. Baekhyun felt his own heart follow along helplessly, jumping a beat as the music in his ears began to sizzle, hissing like an angry cat, getting buried under an avalanche of white noise… and then it was gone.  
  
Baekhyun stilled, suddenly raw and vulnerable to the outer world, now that the music was gone. One lonely person in the midst of a narrow side street behind a church in Lyon. It wasn’t that late, right?  
Why wasn’t there anyone around? Had he been alone all this time?  
His delicate fingers flitted up to check the earbud almost frantically. This was bad, a very bad sign. Maybe he was calling it forth himself, but all of a sudden, the light he was standing in was flickering. Like the beating lifeline that had been cut, the light went out, just like that. It shook Baekhyun awake, and he turned on his heels to run.   
It was here, it had found him.  
It shouldn’t have, it was way too early. Now he heard it, regular heartbeat exchanged for the harsh, hasty clacks of his heels against cobblestones. Behind him, another lamp started flickering, and with a resounding crack, it went off. The sound was unnaturally loud, and it felt like it was mocking him. Showing its omnipotence and superiority.  
Still, Baekhyun was never one to go down without a fight, and forced himself to breathe in and out, tried to prolong the inevitable. He was quicker, but barely so. It was always right behind him, throwing reverberating cracks and darkness after him, letting him know that it was close. Baekhyun skidded around a corner and the alleyways were getting increasingly uneven and narrow. He had no idea where he was running to, but was fairly certain it was leading him on, like a kid blowing at the flame of a candle, just for the sake of watching it flicker precariously. Just to ultimately murder it, out of sheer amusement. He tripped and cursed under his breath, but kept running nonetheless. He mustn’t fall behind, and there was a clearing ahead. Wide places meant more lights, more people, a safety that was second to music, but better than none. His possible exit came closer and a string of golden flickers pricked Baekhyun’s panicky mind. A fence, there was a fence- he could slip behind it, lock the gate and maybe-  
With a thud his body met the gate, and frantic fingers fumbled with the handle. Locked. It was locked, why was it-  
With a last, final thud the lights around him died, and his fingers froze around the handle. Everything inside Baekhyun froze. He turned around, listening to the sound of his own, ragged breathing call out into absolute darkness. His back was pressed into the metal. Cool, unforgiving metal coaxing more noises of protest out of his leather jacket and tinkling against the silver snaps and hooks. All noises that were painfully loud and attention-seeking now.  
  
Baekhyun stared into the darkness and couldn’t do anything but shiver.  
Darkness.  
There was only one thing scaring him more than darkness and that was what lurked inside it. The thing that loved to taunt him, to come at him when no one was around, that would pull him down by his ankles until he was the one buried in white noise. The thing that loved him, in this sick, twisted way. The thing that Baekhyun kept alive, because at the end of the day, maybe it was even scarier being without it.  
It was fear. _And fear wanted to play_.  
  
  
  


 

* * *

  
  


**I have nothing to say (for once) but thanks for reading** **♡**  
  
Love,  
Sugar-and-Salt

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this when I had a huge writer's block and needed to loosen up a bit - so I sat down for 30 minutes and this is the result~


	3. Arizona 17:11

  
First, there was darkness. Then Chanyeol moved the thing covering his face, and light blinded him.  
Above him was nothing but endless blue, a few white fluffs, and that angrily-shining ball.  
He blinked away the vague tears, tugging the world into focus.  
Sky. Clouds. Sun.  
The words appeared in his head, dipping out of the hazy ocean that was his mind.  
How very strange.  
  
He sat up to look around.  
Vast, endless fields with mountains and forests in the distance. Not a single living being caught his attention.  
Then he looked down at himself, at his elegant coat and orderly clothing. How would he know those were elegant? That was easy - it had the color of the sky, and the sky Chanyeol found beautiful and elegant indeed. How did he know what clothing was?  
Who was he? And was there anything he was supposed to do?  
  
He found nothing of meaning on him, nothing to give him a hint... except for a finely crafted, golden pocket watch, dangling of a slim chain. It was softly ticking, towards the carved XII displayed on top. A twelve, twelve o'clock, noon and midnight, his brain added belatedly, and Chanyeol felt a vague sense of urgency.  
Surely, he had somewhere to be at a time this crucial, right?  
  
And so he got up to search. He wandered the fields, roamed forgotten ruins and listened carefully all the while. There was no life filling the air though. It was just a soft breeze, carrying the watches' ticking noise, which seemed to become increasingly louder. By now, he didn't have to have the watch opened, didn't even have to take it out of his pocket to _hear_ it.  
Where did the watch want him to go?  
  
Chanyeol decided to follow the lead of the wind, and wandered through a forest. The world was so vivid, overwhelming his senses. The scent of the slightly damp wood was sweet, slightly tangy and heavy. Rays of sunlight were blazing through the gaps in the leaves far above his head and the ground was cracking, but ultimately soft beneath his soles. Chanyeol came to a halt, forgetting about the clock for just a moment.  
There was just one thought occupying him right now, the first realization, the first answer he found in this new existence.  
  
_This world was beautiful._  
  
The clock struck twelve, and with a faint echo, it froze.

Chanyeol didn't hear that though - for in that exact moment a sizzling sound filled the air, followed by a bitter, unpleasant smell.  
Behind him, a fire was spreading rapidly, licking up the innocent trees, eating away at everything it could reach. Chanyeol barely understood the concept of fire, and so he stepped closer, curious and fascinated. In the center of the fire lay two women, too peaceful for the fire and heat around them. Too peaceful to be alive.  
  
Their time had ended.  
  
For a long time, Chanyeol sat on the ground, observing the two as if they harboured a great secret.  
' _Why would anyone leave such a beautiful place?_ ' he asked himself.  
  
It was sad, it was supposed to be sad. And as he sat there, completely ignored by the flames, Chanyeol wasn't so sure what he was supposed to feel. His eyes were glued to the way the two young women held hands, even in death.  
  
Something about that was beautiful, too.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was both a stress relief and a sneak peek at my fic [Circles in Circles! ](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11471286)  
> I think it's the work I'm the most proud of this year.

**Author's Note:**

> This was actually based off this lovely poem:
> 
>  
> 
> ["Couldn't Care More"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oou9kMR6ZrQ) by Savannah Brown  
> 


End file.
